I’m awake by ten on Saturday morning, but I don’t get out of bed. I lie there and stare at the ceiling, trying to process everything. I had sex last night. Sort of. At least, it was a type of sex. I know it still counts, because I’ve gotten at least eight different “oral sex is real sex” lectures from health class. But… I had it. With Garen. So I’m gay.

Except I can’t be.

Except I sort of am. I just had sex with a guy last night, and he’s not the first one I’ve liked, is he? I can verify that definitively. God, how many hours did I spend staring at Miles the first day I had to sit behind him in English, having to clench my hands together to stop myself from reaching out and stroking the back of his neck, right where his dark brown skin peeked out from under the collar of his shirt? How often did I knock over my water glass from nervousness back when Bree’s first boyfriend, Jake, came over for dinner? There’s no other way to explain it, and at the same time, there’s no way to explain how in the first week of sophomore year, Billy Stuart beat the shit out of me for getting to second base with his girlfriend at a party. Gay guys don’t get to second with cheerleaders. They just don’t, but I did. Therefore, that negates the gay. Right?

I eventually roll out of bed and shuffle down the hall to the bathroom. It’s cold and empty, just like the rest of the house seems to be. Once I’m in the actual shower stall, the monotonous sound of the water streaming down onto my head does nothing to quell the annoying epiphany that seems to be trying to take place, even though I’m not sure it should be taking place.

To distract myself, I start to hum softly. One of the songs Garen uploaded onto my iPod. I can’t remember the name, even though I listened to it on repeat for at least an hour last night. I don’t actually care about the name, because the only reason I listened to it that much is because the singer’s voice reminds me of Garen’s. My own godawful humming is bastardizing the song, but it’s better than thinking.

By the time I finish my shower, get dressed, do some actual studying for my history test, and go downstairs, it’s well past noon. I pop a piece of bread in the toaster and pour my pills out onto the counter to count them while I wait for it. There aren’t many left, and I scrawl a note on the Post-It pad by the phone so I remember to call in another prescription. The toast pops and I eat half of it so I can take my pills. As I’m dropping the rest into the trash, my cell phone sounds off in my pocket.

“Hello?” I say.

“You know how you hate surprises?” Faye asks by way of greeting.

“Yes,” I reply warily.

“Well, we’re all standing on your front step. Surprise!” she says. I laugh.

“It’s a good thing you guys respect my wishes. I wouldn’t want you to be complete morons and do something you know I hate,” I say. I head for the front door anyway. The second I open it, Faye flings herself on top of me.

“Happy not your birthday!” she cheers. I grin at her.

“Thank you, Faye,” I say. Corey is the next one over the threshold, and he holds up his hands.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do that too,” he says. I force a laugh and quickly shut the door after Nicole, Blaire, and Miles all crowd in.

“So, you guys probably have something in mind for why you’re here? Invading my life? Entering my home without permission or warning? And giving me no chance to actually kick you out?” I ask. Faye punches my arm.

“Shut up. We went through all this planning of how we’d actually convince you to let us in, and you shouldn’t be an ass about. And of course we have plans. And here they are.” She produces a boxed DVD set.

“Season one. Wow. You haven’t made me watch that eighty thousand times at all,” I say. I am immediately smacked with the entire first season of 21 Jump Street. “Stop hitting me, it was a joke,” I protest. They follow my escape to the kitchen and all eventually take seats around the table. I lean back against the counter instead of taking the last seat.

“How come we only ever get together to watch his movies?” Corey asks, nodding at the DVD set again.

“Because he is wonderful and perfect in all ways, shapes, and forms,” Faye supplies, stroking Johnny Depp’s two-dimensional face.

“…says my girlfriend as she sexually assaults a cardboard picture,” Miles adds. Faye grins and tilts her head up to give him a consolatory kiss. In a stunning display of the worst timing ever, out of the corner of my eye, I see Garen appear in the doorway. Shirtless. Well, that’s just perfect. He’s rubbing his eyes in a way that shows he’s way too tired to actually want to be up, and his hair is sticking up in slightly-curled spikes. I have to fight the urge to reach out and run my fingers through it. He looks around the room, then heads for the coffee pot. Which I quickly realize is right next to me. Garen measures out the grounds and the water, then switches the machine on and leans against me, his forehead resting on my shoulder.

“Who are they and why are they so loud at ungodly hours of the morning?” he asks.

“They’re my friends, which you should know because you’ve met them all. And it’s noon,” I protest. He makes an unintelligible sound and shifts so even more of his weight is on me.

“They woke me up. Kill them,” he says. The sentence trails off into a yawn, and I have to work to keep myself from grinning like a fool. He’s fucking adorable. And my friends are still sitting right in front of me. I cough and shrug my shoulder.

“They’re here to celebrate my birthday,” I say. He leans back and frowns.

“They were going to come tonight,” he says.

“They decided to surprise me,” I say with a grin. He quirks an eyebrow and reaches around me for a mug.

“That was very cute of them,” he says. He stirs a spoonful of sugar into the cup of coffee and takes an experimental sip. He seems satisfied, because he touches my stomach once and heads for the door. “I’ll be upstairs. Don’t burn the house down, children.”

“We’re not children,” Blaire says. I look over at her, but she’s not looking at me. Her gaze is fixed on Garen, her eyes squinted slightly. Fuck. She must know. She wouldn’t be looking at him that way otherwise.

“Right, you’re all seventeen. I remember now. I just gave Travis his present last night,” he says. Blaire’s eyes narrow even more, and Garen flashes her a bright smile. “Call if you need me,” he adds, and heads back upstairs. As soon as his bedroom door slams, everyone turns to me.

“What the hell?” Corey asks with a laugh. I grin as well. That’s right, laugh it off, make it go away.

“I have no idea. He’s been doing shit like that since we moved--”

“Wait, so he’s gay? Like, seriously gay?” Nicole interrupts. I glance around at them, but they’re all watching me, so there’s no way I can get out of answering. Slowly, I nod.

“Wow. Definitely never would’ve figured him for a homo with biceps like that,” she says, laughing. I feel my reaction all over my face. I have no idea what the hell it is, or what I might actually look like, but I know I’m practically contorted with whatever I’m thinking.

“Nicole!” Faye hisses. When my eyes snap over to meet hers, I realize she’s looking at me without trying to look at me. And that’s when I realize that if Blaire didn’t know before, Faye definitely does now. And how could she not? Everything I spilled to her that day in the cafeteria, what she must’ve heard on the phone, and what Garen was just acting like? She knows. Oh god no.

“Are you alright, man?” Miles asks. I wait for whoever he’s addressing to reply, but there’s silence. I finally look at him and realize he’s staring back at me.

“Let’s go upstairs, okay?” she says, and leads us all up the stairs and into my room. My hand is gripping the railing, then pushing my door open, then grabbing a pillow off my bed to toss down to Corey as he sprawls across the floor. I know my hand is moving, and I know it’s making contact with things, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything, because my entire body is numb. My mind too, apparently, because I can’t really distinguish the difference between Faye putting the first DVD in the machine and her boxing up the set, even though there must be at least nine hours between the two. I watch in silence as everyone gets up and stretches and makes their way to the door. Faye hesitates right next to me, and then reaches out.

“Happy birthday,” she says. I stand up and let her fold my into her arms. “Do you want me to stay?” she whispers in my ear. I nod without even realizing it, but I can’t just take it back as she turns to the others and tells them to go ahead, she’s going to stay behind and hang with me some more. It takes another five minutes of coaxing before they finally leave, and once they do, I walk past Faye and shut the bedroom door.

“So do you want me to say it, or do you want to say it for yourself?” she asks. I can’t help but laugh.

“Am I really that transparent?” I ask. She shrugs and crosses her arms.

“No. But I’ve known you since I was about five, Travis. I think I can read you better than most people can,” she says. It’s true. And fucking annoying. I clear my throat.

“Do I get to say it anyway?” I ask. She nods. I swallow and shrug helplessly and clench my hands into fists and then there’s nothing to do except say it.

“I think I’m gay.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. It’s the first time I’ve even really thought it so definitively. But the second it’s out, I know it’s true. Maybe not all the way, maybe I’m bisexual, but I’m definitely into guys. There isn’t really any escaping that.

Faye just looks at me, like she wants to wait to make sure I’m not going to add anything else. When she can tell that my throat has officially closed up and there won’t be anything following it, she takes a few steps forward and hugs me again, so tightly I think I’ll break.

I do. Faye is at least five inches shorter than me and I’m still leaning at least half my weight on her. My entire body is shaking, and I’m sure she must think it’s because I’m crying. I sort of feel like I might, but I don’t. I just stand there shaking, clinging to her, until we both step back and sit down on the bed in unison. I turn my head to look at her just as she looks at me, and that’s when I see that there are tears in her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” I ask.

“The same reason you are,” she replies. I immediately drag my sleeve across my face. I guess I wasn’t as good at that “not crying” as I thought. Faye laughs, and so do I, and she shakes her head and shifts so she’s completely facing me.

“So this changes everything,” she says.

“I know,” I say. It comes out much quieter and hoarser than I’d intended. I know it changes everything. I’m not stupid.

“But it’ll be okay,” she adds. I nod.

“I know,” I repeat. No it won’t be. We’re both aware of that, just like how we’re aware of the fag joke Nicole made tonight, and that now I’m going to be the subject of those.

“He’s really hot,” Faye says finally.

“I know,” I say for a third time, and she laughs. She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath before planting her elbows on her knees and leaning towards me.

“So, I’ve known for like, weeks that he likes you. And now you like him?” she asks. I feel my face heating up before I even look at her, so there’s already no point in lying.

“It’s sort of more than that,” I say. Her eyes widen to almost twice their natural size.

“What? Uh, details now, please,” she orders. I cough.

“He kissed me on Halloween. At Blaire’s party. I mean, he didn’t know it was me, and he left as soon as he figured it out. But then I went home and we um… sort of made out on his bed for a few hours. And then last night, we…” I trail off, hoping she’ll get it. She doesn’t, just makes a gesture for me to continue. I gesture back. She stares and shrugs at the same time. I shove her backwards so she flops over onto the pillows. “He blew me, okay?”

Faye flails and practically flies off the bed. “Oh my god!”

“Shut up! It’s not that big of a deal!” I hiss.

“Travis, you’re doing your freaking stepbrother! I think it’s a big deal!” she says. It takes another five minutes for her to calm down.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” I repeat.

“This is huge. So are you guys like, a couple now?” she asks. I shake my head quickly.

“No. Not at all. Not even a little bit,” I say. She gives me a look and I throw my hands up in surrender. “Well what do you expect? That we do it once and we’re suddenly a couple?”

I realize two things immediately after I say this. One, I am speaking way more loudly than is necessary. Two, the door just opened behind me. Garen is standing in the doorway, blinking at me, his eyebrows raised.

“You guys did it?” he asks. I shake my head vigorously.

“No!”

He looks from me to Faye and back again, and then his eyes widen.

“Oh,” is all he says. He makes a short “you told her?” type of gesture, and I nod.

“Are you mad?” I ask.

“What? No, of course not,” he says quickly.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Travis, it’s your choice, I don’t care who you tell. I promise,” he says.

“Oh, yeah, you guys aren’t a couple at all,” Faye murmurs.

“Shut up,” I say to her, and she grins down at my comforter. I look quickly back at Garen, who is grinning as well.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t find this funny?” I ask.

“Um… yeah,” Faye says.

“Pretty much,” Garen adds. I shake my head and he laughs. “I’ll uh, leave you two to your big talk, okay?”

I wait until I hear the door shut behind him and then look back at Faye. She shrugs and looks down at the floor.

“What can I say, Travis? I’m happy for you. If you’re happy, that’s all that matters. But I can’t lie and pretend everything is going to be just fine when the rest of the group finds out. I mean, I think you can guess what Nicole will say to you,” she says.

“Does it start with a ‘y’ and end with a ‘ou’re a fag’?” I mutter.

“Pretty much. And Blaire is pretty much obsessed with you, so she’ll go kill herself, if we’re lucky,” she continues.

“Honestly? I have no idea. I don’t… I don’t think he’ll get it. And once he does, I’m not sure he’ll be too thrilled about it,” she says slowly. I nod. I figured that out for myself. It’s one of the things I’ve been obsessing over lately. My best friend Corey and how he’ll react to my queerness. He’s completely unpredictable about shit like this; his reaction could be anywhere from never speaking to me again to joining PFFLAG. I have no idea, and I’m not about to try to find out.

“Please don’t tell them,” I say. She nods quickly.

“Oh, obviously. You’ll tell them when you’re ready,” she says.

“Faye…”

“If you’re ever ready,” she amends. She stands up and snatches the Jump Street DVDs off the bed. “You know, I really should be heading out now. I’m supposed to be spending the night at Miles’ house,” she says. I raise my eyebrows and she swats at my arm. “Not like that, pervert. Well, okay, yeah, like that maybe, but that’s not the only reason why.”

“Yeah, sure. Slut,” I say.

“Like you can talk. I’m not the one banging my stepbrother,” she says, shoving me back onto my bed.

“That doesn’t make me a slut. It makes me open minded,” I say.

“Yeah, open minded to having sex with a super hot musician,” she says.

“…basically.”

Faye laughs, picks up her bag, and heads for the door.

“Faye?” I say just as she opens it.

“What?” she asks, spinning back to face me. I shrug slightly.

“Thanks,” I say. She pauses, and I half expect her to ask what for. But after a moment, she just nods once.